


Urban Fantasy Professionals

by laurasimonsdaughter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Humor, Urban Fantasy, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29566098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurasimonsdaughter/pseuds/laurasimonsdaughter
Summary: A collection of short, funny ficlets all about professionals in surprising urban fantasy settings!
Comments: 9
Kudos: 6





	1. Foster Care

Six years working with child protective services _should_ have taught him to keep a straight face even when confronted with the weirdest situations, but the social worker has to admit that he’s struggling right now. He looks down at his papers for a moment and then back up at his visitors.

No, the pointed ears are still there. So are the just slightly sharper teeth in their hopeful smiles. In fact, they look exactly the way they do in the stories. Right down to the emerald green eyes.

“Excuse me,” he says, nervously clearing his throat. “Could you go over that for me one more time?”

“Certainly! We would like to apply to be foster parents.”

“Right…” The social worker looks anxiously from one of the couple to the other. “But…but you’re _fae_.” He really doesn’t know a way to be delicate about this fact.

“Oh you noticed!” the one on the right says. (The couple introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Peters, but he doesn’t remember who was who and as far as he is concerned their appearance gives him no clue whatsoever.)

“Well, yes,” he says uncomfortably. “And this being the case, I did wonder…”

The Mx. Peters (surely that can’t be their real name) on the left nods understandingly. “Of course, it’s quite alright, we do understand. But you see, the whole changeling thing doesn’t really appeal to us at all.”

“Taking care of a human child sounds wonderful!” their partner smiles brightly. “And we have plenty of room to love one or two more! But we simply refuse to give ours away, and that is regrettably a big part of the changeling business.”

“Your children?” the social worker blinks.

“Yes,” the parents beam proudly. “Two of them,” one of them adds. “A wee one of barely four summers and our eldest, who is nearly eight.”

The other smiles enthusiastically. “It is preferred for foster parents, is it not, to already have children of one’s own?”

The social worker pulls himself together. “Yes,” he says. “Yes it is.” Parents are parents, aren’t they? And if he _forgets_ about the teeth, and the ears, and the intangible feeling that his carpet might start sprouting daisies, these two are giving off practically nothing _but_ parent vibes.

“So you’ll consider us for the programme?”

He nods. “Yes, certainly, I will. Just—” He clears his throat. “We will need to visit your home fist, to verify your circumstances.”

“Of course!” the parent on the left agrees.

“That should be quite alright as longs as we remember not to offer refreshments,” their partner nods.

The social worker nods along and silently scribbles a discrete little note on their file. He is going to have to have a talk with his supervisor about this. And another thing—

“I will need your full legal names for the forms,” he says, looking up.

The two fae meet his eyes with silent stares.

He swallows. “… _a_ legal name for the forms?”

The radiant smiles return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little story has a part two, which can be found on my blog: https://laurasimonsdaughter.tumblr.com/post/189009028597/because-so-many-of-you-are-so-very-kind-about


	2. The Maternity Ward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written because Orpheus asked:  
> "bears are being reintroduced to Britain for the first time for a millennia, along with wolves... ergo it's possible we'd have bear shapeshifters and werewolves again!! I just love the idea of them returning, feeling the old magics stirring again, returning here to somewhere changed and being /welcomed/, given space to live, reconnecting with family maybe, making new family... just the concept of rewilding coming with magic is v v good"

“Any special requirements?” the maternity ward’s nurse asked with the cheerful confidence the young parents before him were clearly still lacking.

“Um, a shape-shifting scryer?” the mother smiled nervously, one hand on her round belly.

“Oh exciting!” The nurse looked from her to the other parent. “Is that from one side of the family, or?”

“Both,” they replied, with as much attention as they could spare from their wife. “Fox and deer.”

“Nice and traditional,” the nurse nodded approvingly. “Let’s get you two set up in your room then and I’ll make sure our scryer stops by later.”

*

Luckily it wasn’t a difficult birth. The doctor was wearing a protective jacket anyway, just in case. Shifters with a predator spirit had an embarrassing tendency to bite when in pain. It wasn’t necessary this time, to everyone’s relief.

The scryer arrived right after the weighing and measuring, clad in the clearly identifiable uniform of the hospital’s magic specialists.

“Well, _what_ have we here?” she cooed at the baby after introducing herself to the tired but proud parents. “Let’s have a look.”

Both parents watched with eager curiosity. It was always exciting to find out a new shapeshifer’s animal form. They _had_ told each other to be prepared for the possibility their child might not be a shifter, but considering both their families that wasn’t very likely and it was so hard not to speculate.

Their little girl clearly took it seriously too, she was very quiet while the scryer rolled her runes.

“There we go!” she said, quickly counting the symbols. “Your- oh, ehm-”

“What’s wrong?” the parent asked urgently, feeling the sudden anxious squeeze their wife gave their hand.

“Um- Nothing at all!” The scryer looked up from her stones with a mix of embarrassment and excitement on her face. “I just thought I had made a mistake, but I’m quite sure… Your baby is going to be a bear.”

“A _bear??_ ”

For once the medical staff looked every bit as shocked as the new parents.

“But how?” the mother gaped. “Where did she find the spirit? There haven’t been bears in the UK for _ages_.”

***

Miles away, in a flourishing highland nature reserve, a team of conservationists glowed with pride as they watched the pair of brown bears they just released lumber curiously into the woods.

“Now that’s what I call a sight worth getting out of bed for.”

“Yeah… Magical.”


	3. The Library

“Alright, there’s one more thing you need to know. The library has lemurs.”

The new library assistant took a moment to replay that sentence in their head. Lemurs. “I’m sorry, the library has what?”

The librarian gave them a patient look. “Lemurs.”

Ah, so they _did_ hear that correctly. Darn. “Um-” Disagreeing with their new supervisor really wasn’t in their top ten of things to do after just getting hired. They put on their most polite questioning expression. “And by lemurs you mean…?”

“Multiple animals from a species within the classification Lemuroidea,” the librarian replied with a faint smirk. She gave a nod towards one of the back rooms, where some of the books were kept that were not for lending, but only for studying. “They mostly keep to that room, we try to encourage that anyway. Would you like to meet them?” 

For a moment her practical efficiency gave way to a slightly softer, enquiring look. 

“If you’d rather not, we can make sure you won’t have to go in there. But every now and they do tend to escape.”

The assistant gaped at her. “You mean there are actual lemurs living in your library?”

“I strongly suspect they think of it as _their_ library,” the librarian answered complacently. “We’ve never been able to get rid of them. Not that I personally ever tried. I’m rather fond of the company. And they do eat the moths and the bookworms.”

After another moment of stunned silence the new assistant decided not to ask exactly what she meant by ‘bookworms’. One thing at the time. “Right, eh, okay? I can do lemurs, I think.”

The librarian’s face brightened up to a smile. “Wonderful. Come on in then.”

She led them into the back room and for a second they actually forgot what they came in here for, mesmerised by the shelves upon shelves of old to ancient volumes, reaching all the way to the high ceilings. Well, they wouldn’t have been much of a librarian-to-be if they weren’t perpetually impressed by the majesty of books.

The room was lit with soft, dim light - easy on the eyes as well as the ageing paper - and where the walls leaned against each other, or the bookcases reaches up at their highest, deep shadows hung down like dusky drapes. For a moment all was quiet and then, with a rustle and a murmur, at least a dozen eyes peered down from those little stowaway pockets of twilight.

The assistant, to their credit, managed not to gasp. 

There really were lemurs. In the dim light they could just make out some tufted little ears above the round eyes, and below that, some snuffly little snouts. As they watched them, some of them leaned forward, small hands gripping the edge of the shelves they were perched on. 

“As far as we can tell they’re a particular library-indigenous species,” the librarian hummed. “We tried to have a biologist in to identify them once, but of course they wouldn’t come out then.”

“How many are there?” the assistant asked and they watched in awe how one of the creatures made its way down to a lower shelf, careful not to disturb a single book, and with its fluffy red tail trailing elegantly behind them.

“Seven, last time I counted.” The librarian squinted a little, looking from left to right. “I don’t see the little ones at the moment. It’s not much use to name them, but they don’t seem to oppose to it, so feel free.”

“They don’t have names yet?” the assistant asked, not quite able to look away from the lemur that was making its way down the bookcase. The black eyes in the red-brown face were fixed on them quite intently.

The librarian hummed. “Not that I gave them.”

“Oh they should have names…” the new assistant whispered and as if it had understood, the lemur that had been climbing down nodded its head towards them invitingly.

Very carefully, they reached out a hand and scratched the small primate behind their ear. The lemur let out a soft purr and the assistant, suddenly filled with an odd sort of warmth, felt their lips smile of their own accord.

“Would you look at that!” the librarian laughed. “Most people have to bring fruit for _that_ kind of condescension.” She gave a pleased little flounce with her shoulders. “I knew you’d do well here the moment I saw you, very good. Well, we best get started, opening hours are almost upon us. Oh, and if you ever lose a book in here, be sure to ask one of them first. They’re excellent at finding things.”


	4. Civil Servants

“ _Please_ , ma’am.” Lara is using her very best patient civil servant voice. “I realise this is frustrating for you, but I cannot issue a birth certificate for that child!” This is shaping up to be a very confusing Monday morning. It’s not like working for the civil registry is particularly thrilling, but it’s usually quite pleasant at least.

“I don’t see why not!” the mother on the other end of the counter sulks. “He is my son, isn’t he? So I should be able to register him!”

Lara takes another desperate look at the child in question. Child, _not_ baby, because he is standing on his own two feet and looks to be about ten years old. Even if he’s a bit short for his age.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” he asks, a typical child’s frown forming on his forehead, and Lara blinks. The child’s light brown skin has an odd pattern to it, almost like the grain of polished w—

“Nothing, honey,” the mother replies hastily. “This _nice lady_ is just trying to explain something to me.”

Lara feels her cheeks burn. “Ma’am,” she says, bringing her voice all the way own. “You’re supposed to register children within three days of their birth!”

The mother bristles like an angry hen. “He woke up the day before yesterday! It’s not his fault he wasn’t _born_.”

Lara stares at her, any sort of reply stuck in her throat. She _can’t_ have heard that right.

She is just about to lose it – in front of a client no less – when one of her colleagues emerges from the copy room. “Is something the matter?” he asks concernedly. “Can I help?”

“All I want,” the woman huffs. “Is to register my child.”

Lara is about to apologise to Collin for dragging him into this, but as soon as he glances down over the counter and sees the little boy, he hastily stands up straight again.

“Ah, yes, I see,” he nods nervously. “No problem at all, ma’am. I’ll just— Asha?”

“Yes?” a voice answers from one of the offices in the back and Asha appears a moment later.

“A special registry for you,” Collin says, a tad sheepishly.

As soon as Asha sees the child, her eyebrows raise so high in delighted surprise that they nearly disappear under the edge of her hijab. “Hello,” she smiles. “How lovely to meet you. What’s your name?”

“Willow,” the boy replies cautiously.

“That’s a _great_ name,” she answers decidedly and promptly turns her smile on the mother, who already looks considerably happier. “If you’ll follow me to the other desk, we’ll have Willow signed in in no time.”

Lara watches them go in silent bewilderment.

“I know,” Collin hums beside her. “It’s always the wooden puppets that come to life, never understood why.”

“…puppets?” Lara gulps. The boy’s hair _had_ looked rather like spun wool…

“Mm,” he nods. “But Asha handles all the special registrations, so you needn’t worry about it. Just smile, nod, and go fetch Asha. That’s what I do.”

Her head is beginning to spin, but Lara nods all the same. “Right. All special cases are for Asha.”

“Exactly,” he smiles encouragingly. “Just remember, when it comes to birth certificates: living puppets, faerie changelings, babies from peaches, logs come to life, that’s all Asha. Oh, and with the marriages we do come across the odd brought to life statue, and they obviously didn’t have a birth certificate to begin with, so she handles those as well.”

Well that’s just too much to process at once, so Lara settles for a dutiful sound of agreement instead of a proper reply. She watches with growing admiration how Asha chats happily with the mother and child from behind her counter. A few minutes later the two of them walk off, smiling proudly, and with the new papers tucked safely into the woman’s bag.

“There we are,” Asha chimes. “No harm done. And another proud single parent.”

“Thank you,” Lara says, the apology clear in her voice, she really wishes she could have handled this a bit more gracefully.

“No problem,” Asha replies warmly. “It’s your first month, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Lara makes a grateful sound and Asha gives her an encouraging smile.

“I give presentations at the head office, if you’re interested,” she says cheerfully. “ _Bureaucracy, the Supernatural and You._ You should come along some time! Because I’m telling you, with the number of young people stomping off into the woods for some escapism nowadays, there’s going to be a _big_ influx of special cases. Mark my words.”


	5. The Groundskeepers

“That’s not to say I’m not pleased you’re here,” the old groundskeeper says while she trudges up the hill. “But I do wonder at you coming all the way across the country for a job like this.”

“It’s a fine park,” her new apprentice replies. “And beautiful woods. And I’ve always wanted to work in this part of the country.”

“Have you now?” she hums in surprise. “Whatever for?”

“The wildlife.” A spark lights up in their eyes. “I know my way around some flora, but animals are my speciality.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have anything too shocking here.” The groundskeeper rests her hands on her hips as she reaches the top of the hill, looking out over the fields with the woods at their borders. “Nothing but weird rabbits. But if you can figure out why my deer are suddenly on the move, I’ll be right grateful.”

“Weird rabbits?” they ask. They come to stand beside her, appropriately worn boots planted firmly in the grass, like they already belong here.

“Yeah,” the groundskeeper hums. “Over-excitable little terrors. I’ve seen them jump a clean two metres straight up. But we’ve gotten used to it. It’s the deer suddenly trying to migrate to the western corner that’s causing me trouble.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve got jackalopes,” the apprentice replies after a moment’s thought.

“ _Jackalopes?_ ”

“Yeah, interbreeding with your rabbits,” they nod confidently. They kneel down to pat the grass. “It’s good, old grass you’ve got here. With lots of clover. Perfect for jackalopes.”

The groundskeeper stares down at them in bewilderment.

“Deer don’t like jackalopes much,” they continue conversationally. “I suppose they see the whole antler thing as encroaching on their territory.”

For a moment the old groundskeeper stands very still, looking at the young person currently smiling at what she’s definitely come to consider as _her_ grass. “Say,” she breaks the silence. “That fancy school of yours didn’t teach you anything about foxes that only scream on Friday mornings just before dawn, did it?”

The apprentice lifts their head in curiosity, getting back onto their feet. “Are you sure it’s foxes?”

“Don’t know anything else around here that screams like that.” She hesitates. “But I haven’t seen them around the times I checked, no.”

“Well!” They dig their gloves out of the pockets of their leather coat and give her a smile full of genuine excitement. “Have you ever heard of mandrakes?”


End file.
